Dialogue & OTP Imagine

Jacob Frye

As an American who had moved to England, most people only gave you enough attention to sneer or grimace.  Clearly they were still sore about that whole Revolution thing, and didn’t bother to ask what part of the country you were from, considering the whole Civil War thing.  That was part of the reason you left, the rest of your family had been killed and the remaining members were split in half by who picked what side.

You weren’t sure if moving to England had been worth it, despite only being eighteen you were still some American trollop.

 You were barely able to get a job as a waitress in a pub in Whitechapel, and that was where you met Jacob Frye.

He and his, still fairly new, Rooks were celebrating the liberation of the northern borough of London.  You flicked your hair over your shoulder as you placed the mugs of beer, the two you couldn’t carry on your tray held carefully in your free hand, on the table.  The bunch hadn’t cared about the fact you were clearly from America, but throughout the night the new gang leader would keep flashing you looks.  They weren’t the judgmental or bitter looks either, and they continued as he regularly attended the pub and offered you a position at the pub he and his sister newly acquired.

Your job then became less about waitressing and more about gathering intelligence.  You commonly found yourself flirting information out of unwitting patrons, and had even batted your eyes at one of Evie’s Templar targets, and the Blighters following her, and lured them all into the closed pub for Evie to deal with outside the gaze of the law.  You adored both of the Frye twins, but your eyes would always glisten over when you spoke about meeting Jacob, particularly when you got to that one line that always remained the same.

“And he looked at me, like there was something worth looking at.”

As far as your family had been concerned, there wasn’t much worth looking at in the first place.  The same stood for everyone who knew your family, the entirety of New York and London.  Jacob, on the other hand, saw a pretty girl with potential in need of a chance to prove herself.  It wasn’t too long before he began training you in his free time, and Evie joined in as soon as she discovered her twin’s plans.

You became their first student, and after the liberation of London they had many more hours to pour into your training.  While he was apologetic, Jacob was more determined than ever to see you trained after you had been targeted.  You had been deemed good enough to follow the two into the field, and both Roth and Starrick were aware of the fact you were a weakness to exploit.  Jacob was determined more than ever to make sure you were capable of protecting yourself, but he wasn’t keen on you going out on assignments.

This was the case for an assignment that sent the two of you to Dublin, Ireland.  A handful of Templars had absconded from London to the Irish city in a desperate attempt to regroup and attempt to take over the city.  For the most part, the Irish Brotherhood had managed to deal with the intrusion, but they were having trouble dealing with the Grandmaster.

The two of you had left to assist the Irish Brotherhood, and after a week you had the situation sorted.  You were looking forward to getting some actual sleep, as was Jacob, before the two of you returned to the Brotherhood.

The two of you stared at the room you were given.  Well…you stared at the only bed in the room.

The two of you had been so busy, you never once had to concern yourselves with the fact there was only one bed.  Not once during the week had both of you had the freedom to sleep at the same time.

“I’ll take the floor,” Jacob offered, as much as he acted like a ruffian he was still a gentleman.

“No, it’s big enough for the two of us.  A wall of pillows and we should be fine,” you protested politely.  Sleeping on the floor with the impending chaos of the next week was not going to be good for the man.  He was far from old, only about three years older than your twenty, but even after treatment and some medication a few of his injuries were still tender.  On top of that, the trip back to London was bound to be just as long and exhausting as the trip from London to Dublin.

Jacob was too tired to argue, and the both of you shed your coats, boots, and gauntlets before setting up the wall of pillows and your bags.  The two of you collapsed onto the bed, Jacob barely able to pull the blankets over the two of you before passing out.  The only downside to that was, you were always freezing, bundling yourself up as best as you could to keep the London chill from killing you.  That, very quickly, resulted in you wrapping yourself up in the blankets and hogging them.

Jacob, in his exhaustion, simply chased after the blankets and unconsciously made his way over the wall separating you two and pulling your back flush against his chest.  The scent of your floral shampoo wafted into his nose and he nuzzled in closer to the soft scent.  The actions of the Master Assassin, who also happened to be your teacher, never woke you as your dreams had taken…well they involved a similar position with the same man, but far less clothing.  You only rolled over in your sleep, nuzzling into Jacob’s chest and further entangling the two of you.

The next day, the two of you awoke to the sounds of the new initiates being trained in the early morning and you found yourselves deeply entangled.  Neither of you said a word as you pulled away, and you couldn’t even look up to see Jacob was just as flushed as you.

It would be best if the two of you never spoke of this.

Ever.

If Evie found out she would nag her brother to death, and dealing with her knowledge of his infatuation with you was already bad enough.